


of forests and symphonies.

by crypticjeggings



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: .... that sounds very strange im sorry, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, different-ish, forest protector au, how else do I tag this?, uhh i dont have any tags, you'll see as it goes on :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18069125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypticjeggings/pseuds/crypticjeggings
Summary: The humans whisper about what happen in the woods. The dark woods that almost no one enters out of fear they may never return. Where the wind seems to twist in unnatural ways, the animals never howling, and the moon never casting light.However, a person is sometimes very determined to get in. Far too determined.But a forest like this has protectors.





	of forests and symphonies.

A small girl peered out of her window, eyes round like moons as she gazed past the dirtied glass to the wide cluster of trees lining the edge of a stretch of green, just past the fence.

She brought a hand up and dragged her fingers across the glass, almost like she was touching the branches and bark. She didn’t care about the smudges left behind, she could only focus on the forest.

“Angie, it’s time for bed,” came a stern voice from behind her. She pouted, but turned around to where her mother is sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Just another 5 minutes?” She asked, pulling herself to sit next to her mother. She fidgets with a beige knitted sock as her mom starts to give her the same talk she gets every night. 

“I told you, it’s bedtime. A growing young lady like you needs rest.” She reaches down and pinches her daughter’s cheek, and the girl can’t help but let a giggle slip as she slides back so she can crawl under the covers.

“At least tell me a story?” The girl asks.

“About what?” It’s a silly question. Her mother already knew what she wanted to hear, what she wanted to hear every night.

“The forest. Tell me what it was like as a child.”

The mother sighed. “Alright. But only if you promise to _never_ try and enter it.”

The small child's face fell, but she nodded. “I promise.”

“When I was younger, the woods were different. It was lighter. Children used to mill on the grass all times of the day, laughing and playing. I could even walk into the trees and play hide-and-seek among the leaves and branches.”

“What changed?”

The woman sighed. “I’m not sure when it happened, but one morning we woke up and realized we no longer wanted to enter. The moonlight no longer seemed to shine past the looming treetops, the darkness seemed to stretch on inside, even during the day. Parents told us to stay away, and for good reason.”

“Why?”

Her mother stared off for a long moment, then smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That’s enough for the night. I don’t want you getting any nightmares.”

“I won’t,” the girl whined. They never got past the darkness. She would ask every night, and her mother would never tell her what happened.

The older women stood up and brushed off her skirt. “Goodnight Agnes. I need to get dinner ready for your father so it’s on the table when he gets home. You know how tired he is after a late night’s work.”

And so she left, turning off the light and closing the door so only a sliver of light came through. The only other thing keeping the room from being pitch black was the silvery moonlight filtering through the curtains. As quietly as she could, Agnes got up from bed and drew the curtains back and stared out the window.

The trees didn’t move.

They never did.

* * *

_46 years later._

* * *

A man shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jacket, the material torn and cracked from years of use.

He stood tall as he walked down the street, and he had the kind of presence that you couldn't miss. Eyes turned to stare at him as he passed, people wondering about this mysterious figure, before they would turn back to the monotonous activities of their daily lives. In a town like this, you learned not to question things.

In no time, the man was at the edge of the suburbs, with its unassuming houses which had stood like that for decades- before some of the owners had even been born. The neighborhood's design was almost like a perfect snapshot of the 50s, almost like people were afraid of change, afraid of letting out a breath after decades of holding it. Why were they holding their breath? No one really knew anymore.

Within moments, he was by the fence separating the rest of the world from the darkness. Or maybe it was separating the town from the rest of the world.

He climbed over it, something not many people did anymore. When he was on the other side he took down his hood and stretched, instantly feeling more comfortable with every step he took closer to the tree line. A scar stitched its way across his temple over his eyebrow. He never drew attention to it while in town, because he knew that a scar like his was something most people would find suspicious for sure. Even more suspicious than he naturally was.

Man, humans were dumb.

He set off into the woods, barely making any noise as he weaved his way through a tapestry of moss and leaves, somehow managing to keep from stepping on twigs and rocks which would draw attention to him. He had lived in these woods for years and had learned quite a few things from it.

His home was in the trees. If you walked for long enough and had enough focus, you might have been able to find a single trunk with a knife mark in it from years ago, barely noticeable amongst the moss and wood starting to grow over it. The man reached this tree and within moments was climbing with an expert’s grace, the pattern of foot and handholds memorized from years of use.

There was a small hollowed area in the bark, a dip several feet wide from the branches splitting off from each other. He didn’t have much, just a mat of deer hide which he slept on, a pot of fruits and nuts, a small log with knives stuck in it, and another jacket hung over a branch jutting off from the others.

He took off his jacket and set it over the other, then started to pull knives from the straps on his thigh and side. He had barely been home for 3 minutes when he heard someone croon his name from down below.

_“Die-e-go!”_

Diego rolled his eyes, but a small smile flitted across his face. He walked over to the other side of his hollow and rested his elbows on the branches as he peered below. “What do you want, Klaus?”

Klaus pouted. “What, I can’t want to see my dear brother? Do I really mean that little to you?”

“I know you, you don’t come to talk to me unless you need something. What is it?”

“Well,” Klaus started as he fidgeted with the corner of his coat, “I noticed you weren’t here earlier.”

Diego glanced off. Was this seriously why Klaus had dropped by? “I was out fishing.”

“Were you? Well, a little ghostie told me they saw you _leaving_ the woods. What do you have to say about that?”

He just stared down at Klaus. “So what, I can’t go into town every now and then? You’re acting like you didn’t sneak out every week to go to the club when we were young.”

“Wow, bringing up things from when we were young, Diego? That’s harsh, even for someone like you.” But before Diego could defend himself Klaus continued. “But it’s not every now and then, you seem to be disappearing a _lot_. So tell me, what’s so important about town to you?”

Diego crossed his arms. “I don’t need to answer to you.”

Klaus sighed, but didn’t try to argue. “Fine. Be that way.” He turned to go, but before he did he asked Diego another question. “I’m going to visit Ben, wanna come?”

Diego shook his head. “No, I’m fine staying here.” He hadn’t seen Ben in years. Most of the others hadn’t either.

Maybe things were better that way.

* * *

Vanya was pretty self-sufficient by now.

She’d taught herself to fish, even when Diego had refused to help her learn. She’d taught herself how to start fires, how to build shelters. She’d learned anything one would need to learn in order to survive by themselves.

She didn’t need anyone, and she was determined to show that. Determined never to speak to the others again. Determined to live out here by herself and never need anyone else again.

Sometimes it got a little lonely, but she would never admit that. Afterall, loneliness was better than searching for the warmth of others only to have a bucket of ice poured over you instead, their sharp gazes cutting into you and their voices barking at you to go away.

So she did. She went away forever.

Vanya was pretty sure the others could find her if they really tried. But did they even want to try? That was the question. Maybe they did, but clearly not enough to find her past the swaying trees and shifting earth.

Her days were peaceful. Unlike the chaos of a haggle of teenage half-gods with inflated egos, she just had the calming whisper of the river as it bubbled by her cave, the breeze rustling through the trees. And she had the violin father had gotten her to keep her busy while the others were off exploring the terrain. The forest was a symphony, one that only lent itself to her ears. The others might talk about loving and caring for it, they might talk about how they would walk to the ends of the earth to protect it, but they could never hear it like she could.

Maybe that’s why she felt so at home here. Just like herself, places of nature were cast out by man, were told that they needed to change- were cut down if they weren’t pleased with it. A story that Vanya knows all too well.

The day started off like any other day. She woke up early, the sun barely creeping over the horizon, and was soon up and starting to build a fire for her breakfast. Vanya had a schedule that she’d kept for months now, and she wasn’t keen on changing it anytime soon.

She had leftover fish from last night that she set to cook, and started munching on an apple that had grown from the tree that hung by the cave.

Days like this, when everything felt too much like a loop that she just went through the motions to pass time, she did sometimes miss living around others. She thought that maybe she could just rent an old house on the edge of town and live there. Maybe Vanya would teach herself to write. Maybe she’d take up painting. Maybe she’d apply for a job at the diner. Who knows?

But then reality would come crashing back down on her, a harsh reminder of who she really was and the danger she would put everyone else in.

“Obviously enough danger to hide my powers,” she muttered to herself.

She yawned as she flipped the piece of meat with a stick, careful not to catch it on fire. She licked her lips, tempted to eat it before it finished cooking, but knew she shouldn’t. Towards the beginning, Vanya hadn’t really enjoyed eating so much unseasoned food, but she soon grew used to it or found other ways to bring flavor to things like strips of fish or a salad made from leaves and berries.

“First of all,” she started talking to herself, “I’ll eat this. Then I’ll go hunting, then practice my music, and then I can make dinner.” That was a bonus of isolating yourself, no one looked at you strangely.

She ate her breakfast, then set out for the day.

The forest animals seemed used to her by now, most knew they weren’t in much danger and seemed to lend an instinctual amount of trust to her. Advantages of having a supernatural tie to these woods, she supposed.

But just how they had grown familiar with her, Vanya had grown familiar with them. She knew the sounds they made, and when the loud noise of someone unadjusted to the terrain bumbling through the forestry appeared, she was immediately on edge.

Vanya ducked through the trees so she was crouching under a spread of branches shooting off a bush. She held onto her makeshift bow and arrow with a firm grasp, ready to defend herself if they tried anything.

The mysterious figure was clearly not one of her siblings. The others would know how to make their way through the woods without causing much disturbance out here, this person clearly did not.

They were a human.

 _Dammit, Allison,_ Vanya thought to herself. _It’s your job to keep people out._ _Thought you were so perfect that you could never slip up like this._

She took a breath before springing out of the woods, planting herself in front of the human and aiming towards his chest, ready to release whenever needed.

But instead of the firm and cold lines of a hunter’s face etched with bitterness, she found round eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and a handful of curls framing a face.

“What are you doing here.” Her voice was wavering, she hadn’t spoken to anyone else in far too long.

“Can’t a man explore the forest?” The man responded, offering a shaky smile.

“Okay, then _how_ are you out here?”

He tilted his head and stared at her, as if confused. “I might say the same thing about you.”

“I live out here. You don’t. Go away.”

He held up his hands. “Alright, alright. I’ll just be on my way.” He tried to step around her, but she blocked him.

“I mean it. Get out of here. The forest is a dangerous place,” she said, her voice firm and eyes staring into him.

Something flickered behind the man’s eyes for a moment, almost like a spark of anger, but it faded back into something friendlier as soon as it came. “Why is it so dangerous?”

“Because we live out here.”

“We?”

Vanya shrugged. “You’ll find out. Probably.”

She stepped away, ready to let him go on his own way. Allison would take care of him.

“Do you have nothing else to say?” He asked, eyes trailing after her as she walked away. “Could I at least get a name?”

She glanced back. What’s the harm? It was just a name. “Vanya. You?”

“Leonard.”

Vanya nodded before fading into the brush.

* * *

 A boy sat on the edge of his bed, light barely seeping in through the dust-covered curtains. The light that did make it in ended a few feet before the bed, so he sat in shadow.

Another prick ebbed in his head, and he pressed his hands to his temples.

The boy was dressed in clothes slightly too old-fashioned for his time. They were wrinkled from being slept in, but it all fit surprisingly well for his shorter stature. He only had one sock on, the other laying across his bed. He must’ve kicked it off in his sleep, he was always restless at night. Must’ve kicked it off before he woke with a start as heat seared through his head.

“Shit,” he swore, as he was blinded for a split second.

He hated his powers.

The boy reached across his bed and felt around for his blazer. He found it and started to slip it on. Yet again, it seemed to fit him quite well. It was just a black jacket, nothing extraordinary about it except for the words “Number 05” stitched across the lapel.

Determined not to let his powers set him back, he began his daily routine. The boy, Number Five, always started with breakfast. Days like this, he couldn’t be bothered to actually make food so he poured cereal out and ate it dry. They didn’t have milk.

_Clang._

Five’s spoon dropped onto the granite countertop and he tugged on his hair, an impulse that he had tried to stop, but came out every time his powers started to reach their climax.

He shook his head as if to clear his mind and went back to eating. He wasn’t going to let this affect his day. Five was better than this.

A scream, ringing in his ears. Trees knocked over, the sight hazy, barely distinguishable smoke. _“You never-“_ the voice stopped as his head cleared up enough to return to the present, but it was enough to tell him who it was, clear as day.

Five was on the floor. He must’ve fallen off his chair, and the bowl is shattered by him, but he can’t feel any pain from when he collided with the hardwood. He’s not even bleeding from the shards of ceramic laying around him.

He got up as quickly as he could with his head still spinning, and set off to find the others.

It’s strange how comforting it was to hear her voice again, even if it’s twisted in coldness and pain. He could hear what it was like when they told each other stories before bed, before everything took a dive for the worse. It reminded him of what was before, not what was to come.

He found Klaus first, whistling as he skipped along his way with a basket in hand. When the man saw him he stopped.

“Oh Five, didn’t see you there! I’m on my way to see Ben, would you like to come?”

Five shook his head and grabbed Klaus’ wrist, yanking him towards him. He had a lot of strength for his size, and the man stumbled. “We don’t have time, I need to find the others.”

“What a shame,” Klaus responded, looking down on Five. “I was really channeling Little Red Riding Hood here, with my wicker basket and my sexy black coat.” He flicked his jacket with his hand. When Five cocked an eyebrow at him, Klaus shrugged. “Couldn’t find a red one.”

“Alright, cool, whatever, we need to go now.” He started to walk off but Klaus yanked his wrist from Five’s grip, a sad look across his features.

“Aww, I can’t even go see my brother?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “No, you can’t. Not right now. The safety of the forest and one of our own is at stake here.”

Klaus threw up his hands in defeat and started to follow his brother. “Fine, we can go do that first.”

Five ignored him and continued walking. They had a long day ahead of them.

He just hoped Vanya was safe.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope i'm able to actually keep this fic going, unlike some of my other fics. i have more time to write now. anyyyways please feel free to comment whether it be just a word or constructive criticism. again, i'm glad you took the time out of your day to read this and can't wait to see where this takes us both.
> 
> (OH ALSO if you spotted the ghost quartet reference towards the end of this you're my new best friend thanks)


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